Being Me
by Leni
Summary: A cute romantic story between Buffy and Angel in an AU.world. All B/S and C/A lovers, please don't flame because I didn't even mention them meaningfully. I just hope the rating is okay because I was told this belongs to that *fine* line between R and NC-1


TITLE: Being Me  
AUTHOR: Leni   
DISCLAIMER: Fanfiction is good, Joss is not. Does that count? Anyway, not mine. Except maybe for Julian... but then, who really wants him? Oh, Roy is mine, too.  
DISTRIBUTION: E-mail me. I'll surely say yes.  
SUMMARY: Being Buffy Summers. College Student. Daughter, Friend and Lover. COMPLETELY AU. And yes, I know this is the fifth story I write in an AU-world with Buffy in first person.  
SPOILERS: Uhm, well... Dawn is mentioned. It's not as if it mattered. It's an AU anyway.  
AN: Spur of the moment fic. Non betaed. Read at your own risk. You'll enjoy the fic AND the risk.  
RATING: Uhmmm... R? NC-17? NC-16?.... Something in between, I guess. Some swearing and sex scene, but... hey, it's me! I can't write NC-17 even for B/Aus!  
FEEDBACK: Oh please, if only to tell me that I'm being *really* lazy about High Mountains, Wide Rivers... dani_vasq@hotmail.com, a_d_v_v@yahoo.com.ar  
  
AN2: Jaime??? You there??? I want to see that 12th chapter posted already! I'm working on the 13th; I still don't know when I'll have it but... please? Seeing your story posted always makes me want to go on!!! *g*  
  
  
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My name is Buffy. Buffy Summers. And, yes, I've been watching those Bond movies again. All fifty-four of them. What? That they are not fifty-four? Oops, my bad. But it certainly seemed so. Try to watch them all in ONE standing and see if they don't seem fifty-four to you too.  
  
No, don't stare at me like that. I'm am not the Bond-lover. *He* is. Who is he, you ask? He was my friend. My best friend. He was the best guy I could have met in my life, my confidant, the only one who bore with me as I was moping over my eight exes. Yeah, I have had eight boyfriends: Grumpy, Brainy, Goth, Jerk, Sporty, Fake-Gentleman, Brainy again... and... uhm... oh yes! There was also Mark, better known as Oops.I.don't.know.how.my.hand.got.there-Mark, but I guessed that was too long a nickname so, it's just Mark.  
  
But I was telling you about this wonderful friend I had. Yes, *had*, as in PAST tense. Did he die? No. Was he in a terrible accident and now can't wake up from a coma? No. Amnesia? Moved out of the city? Married? No. No and NO! We just... became intimate.  
  
  
Did I forget to include that little detail before?  
  
  
  
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*Six months ago*  
  
  
  
"This is just sex." A whisper as she tries to concentrate locking her door so her roommate won't enter the room unexpectedly.   
  
"Yes." A coward. That was what he was, because this was NOT just sex. He knew the difference, or better said he was just beginning to recognise it. And this could never be just sex. Not with her.  
  
Finally, the three bottles of beer and another three - they were three, right? - whisky shots leave her system long enough for her to actually put the key in the lock and gyrate it. Thrice. Willow was going to kill her!  
  
She leaves the key hanging there as he begins to suck *right* in that spot on her neck.   
  
"Nothing meaningful is going to develop out of this," she hisses.  
  
"Nothing, baby. Never." His voice is breathless. That is good, she thinks, because I can't even say anything. His hands are already roaming her body, strange hands find their way under her top but God! they don't feel strange at all. And to think they were the same hands, which had wiped her tears countless times...  
  
She tenses for a brief moment. No need to dwell over it, she quickly decides and moulds herself back over him.under him.inside him... This is just sex. Wonderful.Fantastic.BEST sex... Just a one-night-stand between old buddies. Just some wonderfulfantasticohGODbest sexual release...  
  
She and Angel were both grown-ups doing grown-up things. Things she'd kill Roy for if he ever does THIS to her little sister because she is just sixteen and a little, little girl and if Roy ever dares to use his hands like THIS and touch her like THIS the he better says bye-bye to those hands which are running up and down her body. So hot. So cold. Hot. Cold. hotcoldhotcoldhotcoldHOoooT  
  
"Oh Buffy..."  
  
Yes! Her name is Buffy and his is... his is Best Friend but now he is Lover and she must thank God for having him here in her bed because he is doing all those things she didn't know could be done and who fucking cares if he's done this to others before when SHE is here under.beside.straddling HIM right now when she has also kissed others like this and licked them RIGHT SO and RIGHT THERE... but none of them tasted like this, she realises. None of them had tasted like...  
  
"Angel..."   
  
She remembers his name now. Not Best Friend. Not Lover. He is ANGEL and he is both.  
  
They were mature enough to handle this... Nothing would change after tonight. Film Night on Thursdays and Coffee Breaks would still continue... because they were Buffy and Angel, buddies since High School and why would mind-blowing sex interfere with it?  
  
She retrieves her voice for whatever corner it had been hiding in.  
  
"And we will still be best friends forever," she states firmly  
  
A grunt comes in response. She assumes it is a yes.  
  
Then she is quickly unbuttoning his shirt as she is careful not to rip it apart because it's the same red one she gave him for his last birthday and she really likes seeing him in it.   
  
Without it. NOW.   
  
"Oh God---" he breathes out. He's sure he heard something about being ' best friends'. Yeah, sure, whatever. He would ask her tomorrow on a date and would confess everything then.  
  
Red pools at the feet of the bed where she tosses it and now she isn't sure if she must use hands, mouth or teeth for all that uncovered flesh... She uses the three of them.   
  
'Quick decision, Summers, very good!' she congratulates herself.  
  
But there was still that question which won't let her concentrate in that skin on her tongue. He tastes like cinnamon. And bath salts. And a little bit of alcohol for when she threw her glass of whisky on his shirt and she was trying so hard to dry it with a paper towel and then their eyes locked and suddenly she was trying to find her keys with his tongue inside her... And yes, the question...  
  
"Promise me, Angel. Friends?"  
  
"Yes." He gasps as she begins nibbling his collarbone and her right hand *somehow* find its way to his belt. She is licking now. Licking and Suckling. She needs an answer and he gives the one he only wants to give partially. "Friends. Forever." He agrees completely with the 'forever' part, but about being friends... well, that was only part of his greater plan.  
  
She smiles and looks in his eyes. They are closed and he is smiling. But not because they will remain friends after the alcohol and the night and her bed. He is smiling BECAUSE of the alcohol and the night and the attention she is giving him on this bed. "Angel, I mean it!" She has gone still in his arms and her voice is loud and clear. "I need you, Angel. As my friend. Tomorrow and beyond."  
  
"Yes, and, Buffy?"  
  
She is beginning to relax anew now that her future is clear and sure again. "Yes?"  
  
"Shut up."  
  
And she did.  
  
Not exactly the most romantic chapter of her life. But then, who cares for romance when her best friend (yesterday.tomorrow.forever.) has already unhooked her bra and is preoccupied sucking her breasts?  
  
Oh God...  
  
YES!  
  
  
  
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The infamous next morning was freakish, I'll admit it.  
  
When I first saw Angel's eyes staring right at mine, I just shrugged it off as *another* late morning where he had arrived to pick me up and I was still in Dreamland. The only weird things in those innocent five seconds were ONE: What the hell is he looking at?! TWO: Why hasn't my alarm clock woke me up? THREE: Where's Willow? FOUR: Oh my God! I was so drunk I didn't change into my pyjamas and Angel is right beside my bed! FIVE: Angel is NOT beside my bed. He is IN my bed!  
  
I jumped up bringing the sheets with me.  
  
Which left Angel uncovered (without pyjamas, too, of course) and myself more flustered than I had been when Julian Mackenzie found a tampon in my satchel back in sophomore year and passed it around the WHOLE class... I'll take Julian the BIG Idiot back any day. At least he never was nude on my bed. Only that, I didn't exactly act like the virgin I am not nor like the best girlfriend I should be... instead, I was staring at Angel... 's anatomy...  
  
Take it back, I'd rather have him here... World, I've just made the greatest discovery in the whole History and I MUST announce it... Naked Angel is a GOOD Angel.  
  
Only that... how the hell had he gotten in this situation? Better yet, how the hell had *I* gotten in this situation? I groaned.   
  
"Buffy?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Could I have one of the sheets, please?"   
  
Ummm... no? You see, we were right in midsummer. Not exactly the time of the year where one uses covers, so I had just this one sheet. And I was clinging to it to maintain whatever dignity I had left.  
  
"Buffy?"  
  
"No. It's the only one I have." So I did the best next thing and grabbed one from Willow's bed and tossed it to him.  
  
"Are you okay?"  
  
Always asking about my welfare, that was Angel for me. The best friend I could have dreamed of. And from the way my body was feeling (tingling.warming.begging to go to HIM) right now I was willing to bet he was my best lover so far, too.  
  
I ran to the bathroom and knelt before the bathroom tile.  
  
Two minutes later Angel was tying my hair in a ponytail (he had put his jeans on somewhere in that time) and was handing me the toothpaste.  
  
"We were at The Dingoes' party." I remembered suddenly.  
  
He nodded.  
  
Good. The Party. I had been right on that assumption so it was only logical the next memory was real too. "And Devon got me into that silly drinking contest." I'll kill him. Painfully. I'll put cockroaches in his locker until it is full with them and THEN I am going to kill him.   
  
"Three bottles down before they called it a draw," Angel supplied, "Everyone was impressed afterwards. Nobody actually believed you would continue after the second one."  
  
I grimaced. "Mum would be so proud of me," I drawled, "My first semester at college and I'm already impressing people in famous contests." I leaned my head into the cool mirror. It was a nice contrast to the heat I was feeling on my temples.   
  
I HATE hangovers. They make me grouchy and clumsy for the whole next day. And speaking about clumsy...  
  
"I spilled the whisky on your shirt."  
  
"Don't worry about it." He shrugged. "I'll just put it in the laundry. I've got enough experience to know it won't leave a stain."  
  
"And I tried to dry it off and then we were---" ...I glanced at the disorder in the room. My clothes thrown across the tiny 'living room', his shirt still crumpled on the floor, the disarrayed bed... "---here." I breathed out the last word as everything *finally* sank.  
  
I had had SEX with Angel.  
  
Intercourse with my BEST friend.  
  
I had just spent a sweaty, hot, passionate night with someone I considered my BROTHER.  
  
And I loved every moment of it.  
  
Oh my God. I've taken Psychology. And this is plain INCEST!  
  
I groaned.  
  
"Buffy?"  
  
Silence. I was too busy replaying every second of the last night to answer him.  
  
"Buffy," he took a breath and I knew he would say something very important. I hadn't known the guy for four years just to not know what his deep breathing meant. "Are you sorry for... you know... last night?"  
  
Another thing: He was nervous. Angelus O'Connor never used 'you know's or 'err's or 'I mean's. He was too confident of himself to apply all those phrases which the rest of the world use as cover for those nanoseconds they need to gather, process and elaborate a thought and put it into words.  
  
And yes, I was stalling around the question.   
  
Because it only had two possible answers and suddenly 'Yes' and 'No' were concepts too difficult to grasp.  
  
YES! Because I said it before: Angel equals 'brother', therefore 'last night' would be like... like incest...like a sin. And then, what would happen now? Between us, I meant. Best friends are not supposed to sleep together, not after four long years of buddy-ness, not even if the girl had a crush on the boy when they first met, not even if there had been some stolen kisses here and there over the years. We were best friends, damnit! And I wanted to stay that way...  
  
But then...  
  
NO! Because last night, or what I remembered of it, had been fantastic. And it wasn't only the sex. True, it played a BIG part, especially when Angel actually learned what I most liked, but... there was... something else... and even four years of buddy-ness could not could not make our night seem wrong. And, what was the big problem anyway?   
  
I didn't regret it and we would put it in the past as one of those crazy things young people do and keep going through our original path. Only we weren't going to. I knew Angel and I knew myself and, wherever we went from that night on it would not be the same destination a sexless friendship had reserved for us.  
  
And I was scared.  
  
And because I was scared I regretted it.  
  
Only my body didn't agree with me and... I just couldn't really regret something that had been so... beautiful and unforgettable. Forgive the poetry, please.  
  
He seemed to understand my inner conflict because he gave me a peck on the cheek and left the bathroom. I was left in front of a mirror (greeneyes.red,redlips from his kisses,blonde-tousled-bedhair, two blue-yellowishbruises on my neck and a rosyflush overall) hearing him retrieve and put on his clothes. The sound of the key working to open the lock was what propelled me out of the bathroom (hiding.nothinking.noseeing.nobelieving.) "Please don't go... yet."  
  
He looked back at me.  
  
He didn't move.  
  
And the door was already half open.  
  
I didn't (couldn't.wouldn't.whyshould*I*?) move either.  
  
He opened the door further.  
  
Suddenly his forearm was between my hands.  
  
They weren't holding the sheet anymore.  
  
*whoosh* White linen at my feet. At OUR feet because the door was closed, thrice locked and I remembered where I had seen that look (Hunger.Curiosity.Passion) before.  
  
Only that now my hands were not holding a paper towel or his forearm. They were too busy trying to unbutton his shirt *again* to even worry about holding anything else. Twice in less than twelve hours, damn fucking hard-to-get-out buttons!  
  
What the hell! I finally decided I'd just buy him another shirt for Christmas!  
  
  
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And yes, I did buy him another red shirt. And after what happened on New Year's Eve I guess I'll have to buy him yet another.  
  
I swear it, whoever the designer is, he doesn't think of those buttons for passionate, mindless nights. Especially those where you have to keep doing whatever you like most around midnight, as long as possible, so that you'll have it during the whole coming year.  
  
I guess you already know what I did. Hey! No hard, half-amused stares coming my way now, okay? I'll have you know that it is a quite respected custom in my family. Mom told me she saw Dawnie kissing Roy as she was finishing the last touches of her last painting. If Roy even dares to look at her the wrong way... I'll send Angel after him. After all, Angel had taken Dawnie as his little sister since our first year in this town... and no! I'm not being hypocrite! Dawn is nowhere ready enough to that kind of relationship!  
  
So yes, it has been six months since the Dingoes celebrated the release of their first disc. They didn't make much of it, (inter)national Hall of Fame doesn't care much about another college rock band, I guess. But here in Sunnydale we still love them, they are still our local favourites and they play in every important event. Today there will be one of them. Right here, in the S.C.Auditorium. Motive? Some winter festivity, surely. Here at college people don't care much about the reason for a party as long as there's alcohol and enough 'bachelor-palette' for the lonely ones.  
  
I'm only going because Wills begged me to. Seems she is finally overcoming some of her shyness and today will talk to the band's guitarist. Thank God! Poor 'Oz' Osbourne has had it BAD for her since they made that science project together. I suspect that his familiarity with numbers, elements, physical and chemical reactions was his saving grace for Willow. Nothing against the guy, it's just that I can't really see her interested in a musician. An example? Devon, the Dingoes' lead singer. She disdains Devon him with a passion... But I'd rather think that comes back from when he put a cockroach in her hair when they were little, Willow told me she didn't stop crying until her parents came to pick her up... Some grudges are harder than others to forget, I guess, and having an ugly bug on your head definitely accounts for the 'hard' part.   
  
Can't blame her really, I'd still gladly punch Julian Mackenzie in the nose AGAIN if I saw him. He had to use a bandage for weeks afterwards and all his friends teased him for months for letting a girl punch him...  
  
I was held with a home arrest for a month so I guess it was a fair exchange.  
  
Ok, so maybe it wasn't. But if you are a girl and see you tampon flying through the classroom, I'm sure you'll think like me.  
  
Willow finally cracks the bathroom door open and enters the room. Oh my God! I'm so proud I think I'm going to cry! That shopping spree really was worth the time spent far from Angel!  
  
Of course, I'll just make it up for him later.  
  
But, Willow looks so... *sexy* now! Osbourne won't know what hit him tonight!  
  
"I'm not sure..." my best friend whispers glancing self-consciously at her image.  
  
"But I am, Wills, and you bet your fishtank that you'd obey me tonight!" Sure, I wouldn't know what to do with a fishtank but it's the most precious thing for her (after her computer but we couldn't bet it, could we?) and I needed a sure warrant that she would look *really* and *much more than* pretty tonight.  
  
"You just have to feed them a little bit everyday, they really won't consume your time..." she begins.  
  
I'm not having it. I didn't spend three hours at the mall looking for something sexy that *still* would make Wills feel comfortable for this! Gods, I even chose a skirt that reached her knees! "Willow Elliane Rosemberg!" I begin. She is immediately paying attention to me. "You will keep that skirt and those high-heeled boots *and* that top. You yourself helped choose them so don't *dare* back down now!" She nods but still raises her arms and I gather her intent at once. "Don't even *think* of putting your hair down, Wills! That hairdo looks just excellent on you!"  
  
The things a best friend must do...and I'd do it again because, as she is looking now, Willow won't find a problem attracting guys and, even knowing Daniel Osbourne as little as I do, I know that he'll go reclaim his prize.  
  
This is just perfect.  
  
This *has* to be perfect.  
  
I promised her my two favourite CDs if she didn't get a date with her guy after tonight...  
  
  
  
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Angel comes for us some minutes later.  
  
Had I told you we are not best friends anymore? We are lovers. Six months next Wednesday. And I am so excited! He promised me a surprise... I wonder what it'll be.   
  
And yes, I do realise that's the purpose of a surprise.  
  
We've been together since that night, and the fact that there's another Dingoes' party so soon before our 'anniversary' is a good sign, we think. And we are planning to celebrate it after the party, alone, preferably when Willow has Oz around her (just so my conscience will be able to sleep tonight even if I doubt *I* will be doing any sleeping. Besides, what kind of a best friend would I be if I didn't make sure that Wills is having a good time?)  
  
For the first two months or so we still acted as the best friends we had been for so much time. With the additional sex thrown in, of course. Sometimes it was planned (dinner for two at Chez Marielle, Videofeast at his *lonely* apartment, that big shower at my place...) and other times it just... happened (walks along the beach, Calculus study sessions, a casual encounter anywhere on campus and, my favourite, taking care of Spike's cat... I just hope he'll never realise we broke one of his ashtrays...)  
  
I'd say we went carefully step by step.   
  
First we turned our original buddy-friendly meetings into dates. We began holding Film Night everyday except Saturdays (that is for parties!) at his apartment. Mostly we didn't remember what the movie was about the next day and, to tell you the truth, I didn't care. Then Coffee Breaks turned to be Dinners-For-Two and Breakfasts-At-The-Cafeteria... soon afterwards everybody was looking funny at us. Were we that obvious? My mom, Willow, Spike (Angel's neighbour and friend), Dawn... hell! even then kitchen-lady was staring at us every morning!  
  
And so we began to 'date'. And mom told him not to call her 'Auntie' or 'Joyce' anymore but 'Mom'... she believes we are the perfect couple and... I guess we are exactly that for the others.  
  
Only... we just have dates and sex.  
  
True to his word, Angel didn't let anything meaningful develop out of it.  
  
And I don't know what to do because...  
  
...because...  
  
...I'm in love with him.  
  
I realised it just some weeks ago.  
  
Quite a secret to guard, isn't it?  
  
I'm not sure if he loves me back. Oh, of course he loves me! As a friend, as a partner, as a playmate, as his lover... but, enough to ask me to *be* together? As in a boyfriend-girlfriend relationship?  
  
I'm not sure.  
  
Hell! I'm not even sure if my love for him is really *that* kind of love. Sure, I get butterflies in my stomach every time he enters a room and I count down the *minutes* until we are together again and, of course, I'm sure I'd do for him pretty everything. Except that disgusting thing he insists we do in bed, I'm sorry but covering part of *my* body in desserts for the ants to digest is not big in my Turn-On meter (yes, I do have one. First thing in the list in Angel in a *red* shirt. Closely followed by Angel *without* the shirt and a sound of ripping cloth afterwards...) Angel insists that ants would *not* be the ones doing the eating but still...  
  
But, continuing with the main thought, I'm not sure of anything. What if this 'love' I'm feeling for him is just a fleeting thing? It could well be, I have eight very valid reasons to suspect it.  
  
I guess time will tell.  
  
Or Angel will tell me he doesn't want me anymore.  
  
Either way, I'm still confused right now.  
  
Only that 'confusion' is the first nagging thought to flee once Angel has me in his arms and is kissing me goodnight.  
  
I love him, yeah, whatever.  
  
And he will love me back, even if I have to spend the next four years courting him.  
  
Only that, and I wouldn't realise it until the next week, he already loved me. As in a boyfriend-girlfriend relationship with a ring and everything. He is so cute when he is nervous! He even *stuttered* when he asked me to be his girlfriend...  
  
Awww...  
  
THE END  
  
For those of you who still remember HM,WR I *am* trying to gather enough muses to get to work on High Mountains, Wide Rivers...  
But, please, send feedback... or the muses will be even slower in coming.  
K&S  
Leni 


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